


The Heist

by abstractedcharm



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Season/Series 04, season 4 fix-it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 18:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1276297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractedcharm/pseuds/abstractedcharm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rose Tyler is dragged back into his Universe, the Doctor knows something is up. There's a Crack in the Wall of the Time and Space and an ancient and perhaps even familiar force is manipulating the people he loves to an end he can't fathom. For some reason, it revolves around a girl named Amelia Pond.</p><p>(A post-S4 rewrite with elements from S5-7, but not a replication of the plot.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for clicking on the link! 
> 
> I want to thank silverdragyn, my awesome and tireless beta who puts up with all my neurotic ramblings and way too many frantic 'CAN I RUN THIS BY YOU??'s. Seriously, you're awesome.
> 
> Please enjoy! This will be updated once 1-2 week depending on how hectic my schedule is in real life. Right now I have a good portion of it written so it shouldn't be an issue. Yet. And this is going to be a bit long.

**The Heist**

_abstractedcharm_

**One**

“I’m so sorry, Rose. I’m sorry.” Desperation cracked River Song’s voice. Through her heavy lids she could make out a faint outline of the other woman, imprisoned on her elaborate throne as the thirteen tubes that were pinned into her skin began to glow a yellow-golden light. They travelled across the small space between the two prisoners, imbuing River with an overwhelming sensation that was both breathtaking and agonizing.

As River convulsed from the strain of that power, Rose seem to light up from within, her skin shimmering as if she had been brushed over with a thin layer of gold. _It was her eyes that rendered River breathless_ _._ Eyes stormy and divine. People feared the Doctor, shuddering in the wake of the Vengeful God, but he seemed so mortal in the face of _her_.

“Oh dear god,” River gasped. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She was suffocating, the presence devouring her as if she was nothing but space debris in the face of a black hole. But River had nowhere to run in their cramped cube prison. She had created her own coffin. “What have I done?”

 

* * *

**_2 years and 7 months Ago – Linear Time_ **

Her first conscious breath was so cold that Rose felt like she had been thrown into the icy Norwegian waters. All the muscles in her body spasmed desperately, her arms and legs jerking about, suddenly aware of their surrounding. She opened her eyes but saw nothing but blinding white, and her mind was blissfully empty for a split second, calm, peaceful. Then she noticed it—

_what was it, breaking the cool balm of that emptiness?_

—a harsh jagged line tainting her white paradise. Her heartbeat quickened when the crack widened as if it were the jaw of some terrible monster.

She heard screaming—who was screaming? It sounded like the Doctor— _John_? He was screaming her name.

“Rose? Rose!”

Color wrenched its way into her vision, and the white disappeared, replaced by the image of two concerned faces. Two very familiar concerned faces.

“Rose? That’s her name isn’t it?” the woman asked the elderly man.

“Yeah I remember that much,” the man answered, “Look! She’s wakin’ up!”

“Good. She needs to get out of here before Donna gets here,” the woman huffed impatiently.

Donna? Right! Donna’s family, the Nobles. Must be her mum and grandpa.

“Donna’s family…” she managed to say, her voice weak and raspy, “How…”

“We found you collapsed on our front steps,” the elderly man—what was his name?—informed her with a kind smile, “Thought the Doctor would be around. He wouldn’ta left you all alone would he?”

“I don’t…” Rose muttered, “I don’t…know…” He did. He left her. But not alone. Where was John?

“S’alright,” the man said gently, “Take it easy. How ‘bout a cuppa, eh? That’d help. Sylvia—?”

“I’ll go put on the kettle,” Sylvia sighed, and stood up and walked away, presumably to the kitchen.

The elderly man helped Rose sit up. Her vision wasn’t so much disoriented as it was coated with a sense of surrealism, not that the very ordinary living room of the Nobles was very surreal in design.

“You’re—you’re Donna’s grandpa?”

“I am,” he answered.

“You know me?”

“’Course I do! ’Member? Saved our lives during that last invasion with all the planets in the sky. Wilf. Wilfred Mott.”

“Yeah, I remember that,” Rose said, nodding, “I remember. You didn’t have a…a _webcam_.”

Wilf grinned sheepishly at her, shrugging apologetically for her troubles.   “So,” he said, “Where’s the Doctor, eh? You’re one of his friends, aren’t ya? I’m lookin’ for’im.”

“The Doctor?” she asked, surprised, “He’s not…Wilf, what year is it?”

Wilf seemed delighted by the question. “You time travelers,” he said with a pleased sigh, “The year is 2010. December 23rd to be exact.”

“And…you don’t know who Pete Tyler is, do you?”

“No, never heard of’im. Who’s he?”

Rose blinked several times, her mind circling around the realization that she was— _she was back_.

 Was she dreaming? She so often dreamt about waking up in her old universe to learn that everything that happened since Canary Wharf had been a long, bizarre nightmare. But waking up on a couch in the Nobles’ living room had never been part of any permutation of her dreams. 

Wilf was beaming at her, looking oddly adorable in his red wool cap. The sharp squeal of a kettle pulled her eyes towards the kitchen. She caught sight of a series of framed photos of the Noble family on the wall. Donna’s frank face jumped out at her and Rose had the sudden image of the redhead squabbling with the Doctor in the Tardis, matching the Doctor’s word for word.  A ghost of a smile graced Rose’s chapped lips before the realization dawned on her with absolute certainty that she was not dreaming.

It hit her with sharp disappointment. She was _back_ and yet she couldn’t muster up the energy to be thrilled. The jolt of excitement that had rendered her breathless the first time she realized she had arrived in the right universe—and that she would be seeing the Doctor again— barely fizzled now. Instead, Rose felt a strange bemusement infused with bitter heart ache. She thought of John. Was John back there, alone, frantically searching for her? Storming through Torchwood with a desperate obsession to find a way to get her back, like she had done before? And where was the Doctor? Did _he_ do this?

“Wilf, you said you were lookin’ for the Doctor?” she asked.

Wilf nodded.

“Why?”

Wilf’s expression darkened slightly, his mouth pursed with grim anxiety. “There’s…something comin’ Rose. I can feel it. I’ve seen it. I need to find the Doctor.”

Rose frowned. “Where’s Donna? Is he with her?”

Sorrow flitted across the old man’s face, and he seemed to retreat for a moment, lost in some miserable thought. Rose felt a stab of panic.

“What?” she asked, “What is it? What’s happened?”

Suddenly the front door opened and Donna’s distinctive voice filled the room, “Gramps! Mum? I’m here!”

Donna walked into the living room, shedding her gray pea coat on the coat hook and pulling off her gloves. She was mumbling complaints, her tone irritated and sharp, and she was so engrossed in her own rant that she did not notice Rose until she was sitting on the couch directly across from her.

“Donna,” Rose greeted, smiling warmly. She was surprised Donna was back at home; Rose thought she and the Doctor would be flying across the universe being fantastic and trying to out-talk each other.

Donna made a face. “Who’re you?” she demanded rather callously.

Rose’s face fell, her eyes wide and confused. “Donna—”

“She’s a friend!” Wilf interrupted quickly, “Donna, meet Rose. She’s the new girl who works at the Senior Center. Rose, this is my granddaughter, Donna.”

“So you’re bringing home blondes now are you?” Donna playfully accused her grandfather, earning an uneasy chuckle from the old man. She grinned at Rose. “This old codger giving you any trouble?”

Rose’s lips twitched into a semblance of a smile. She could barely mask her confusion in her stilted reply: “Uh no. He’s…he’s wonderful.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Donna agreed fondly. Rose nodded.

 “Well, anyways,” Wilf started energetically, “Rose was escorting me to a senior’s event downtown. Best be going, right, Rose? Don’t want to keep’em waiting. It’s salsa night.”

 “Oh I can give you two a lift,” Donna offered, “Mum, Shawn and I are going last minute Christmas shopping, gramps, we could drop you off.”

“NO!” the protest slipped out of Wilf’s mouth much too ardently, making Rose wince and Donna jump. “I mean, Donna, luv, you just go and have fun. Anyways, Rose is here to take me.”

“Yes, I am,” Rose added quickly, glancing meaningfully at Wilf, who pleaded with his eyes to play along. Rose grudgingly did. “Let’s go, Wilf.” She got up, nodding stiffly, “Bye, Donna.”

 “Alright, bye!” Donna mumbled, waving a lazy hand as Rose and Wilf shuffle quickly out the door.

Once outside, Rose stopped and turned around, her expression hard and angry. “ _Wilf, what is going on?_ ”

* * *

While Rose was trying to unravel the truth of Donna’s amnesia, the Ood informed the Doctor that his song was _changing_. He grazed his eyes over the Elder Ood sitting in the circle, their languid eyes entranced, swaying with the rise of the smoke.

“Changing?” the Doctor repeated, his brows furrowed, “From what?”

“Every night we dream. Bad dreams, Doctor. Terrible dreams.”

“Alright,” mumbled the Doctor, wearing a concerned frown, “Dream. Bad ones. Let’s hear’em then. ”

Then the Elders lifted their hands and joined them, chanting in their wispy voices: “You will join, you will join.”

The Doctor joined them – and the moment his hands completed the circle, a sharp pain exploded in his frontal lobe. An image of a laughing man made him break the connection and he withdrew his hands as if he had set it on a burning stove. His face was frozen with terror and disbelief. “That man is dead,” he said, in breathless horror.

“There is yet more,” the Elder Ood continued, “Join us. See what we see. Hear what we hear.”

The Doctor completed the circle once more—and the timelines hit him with an excruciating force—

The Master filled his head with that insane laughter, but he quieted enough for the Doctor to hear a faint female voice, singing. Puzzled, he concentrated on it, and heard the words: __  
  


 _…Seven for a secret never to be told_  
Eight for a wish  
Nine for a kiss  
Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss….

A shrill scream fractured the trance-like rhythm of those words. Images flashed in his mind like a film fast forwarding, a blur of faces he might have recognized and places he might have known. He wondered if the Ood were swishing around in his private memories because every streak of blonde and pink filled him with a wrenching regret. It could not have been a vision of the future the Oods were showing him—and if it was, then he had more to fear then the resurrection of the Master.

“Events are taking shape, so many events, so many years ago, so many years in the future—yet everything is fluid. Dangerously fluid. There are many many actors in this play of destiny and power. But first—there is a man…”

The last thing the Doctor expected to see was the image of a morose looking Wilfred Mott. He thought he caught sight of a familiar silhouette and splay of dirty blonde hair, but the image flickered away, focusing mostly on Wilf.

“Wilfred!” he exclaimed, “Is he alright? What about Donna, is she safe?”

The Elder Ood answered, “You should not have delayed, for the lines of convergence are being drawn across the Earth. Across all of time. Even now.. The king is in the house.”

The image of a well groomed man and his daughter flashed in his mind.

The Doctor frowned, puzzled. “I don’t know who they are.”

The Elder Ood continued, “They are the tip. They are only the beginning.”

“Of what?”

 “Something more is happening, Doctor. The Master is part of a greater design, which is merely the beginning. The fledgling flies through the crack. A shadow falls over all of creation. It has been possessed, inside turned out. The Ood have gained this power to see through time because time is bleeding.”

A shiver raced down the Doctor’s spine as the Oods’ eyes glowed red. The unsettling image of red-eyed Ood conjured memories of two people who had been ripped away from him.

“This darkness heralds the Song of Change, Doctor,” the Oods chanted together, “The Song of the End.”

“The End?”

“Yes. The End. The End of Time itself.”

* * *

In her history of bizarre days, Rose was sure this day was to become the strangest of them all. If not for suddenly finding herself in the Nobles’ living room and Donna not remembering her, then for the self proclaimed Silver Cloaks who had put out all their aging feelers to find the Doctor. The gregarious group of geriatrics seemed foolishly hopeful about finding one the universe’s most slippery beings with their network made of questionable eyesight and aching limbs. Rose had the dimension cannon and the knowledge of time travel tech at her disposal and it had taken _her_ forever to track down the Doctor.

On top of the Silver Cloaks, Wilf told her about Donna. Stunned, Rose could say nothing at first. The sight of Wilf’s crestfallen expression crushed her and fanned the nascent flame of anger that had been growing ever since she considered that _he_ could be the reason she was ripped away from her life and John. A quiet, more reasonable side of her said that was impossible—the Doctor would never do that, at least the Doctor she thought she knew. But the Doctor she knew would have never left Donna the way he did either.

“And that’s it?” she asked Wilf, her tone harsh, “He just left her like that? He just gave up?”

Wilf answered with a small, unsure shrug, but his expression softened. He seemed to feel validated by Rose’s apparent anger and concern for Donna.

“He said…said there was nothing more he could do…” Wilf mumbled sadly.

“Well he’s wrong.” The words spilled from lips before she could stop them. She winced when she saw Wilf’s eyes light up with hope.

“You mean there’s a way?” Wilf asked with astonishment, “You saying there’s a way we can save Donna? Get her memory back?”

Rose bit her lip. Damn her stupid mouth. She didn’t actually know—just because it worked with John didn’t mean it’d work with Donna. She bet her life that it would, but she didn’t want to promise anything. Broken promises and disappointments cut deep and did more damage than good. “There might be.”

“Can you talk to’im about it?” Wilf implored, “The Doctor? Get’im to do more, maybe? It hurts me to see Donna this way. She was so happy, Rose, so happy with who she was. Now sometimes I see her just…gazing with this blank, disappointed look in her eyes. That light she had when she traveled with’im, it’s diminished.” The old man paused to pull himself together a bit, wiping the tears welling in his eyes with his thumb and index finger. When he spoke again, his voice trembled slightly, “I wish I could just see that light again.”

Rose smiled kindly and nodded. “’Course Wilf. I would even if you didn’t ask. We all owe it to her. We’ll talk to the Doctor together, yeah?

The day became even more bizarre when someone’s friend of a friend, or something, rang a very vibrant old woman named Minnie to tell her that a man in a brown coat with a blue police box had just been spotted.

Rose couldn’t believe it. A couple of hours with a handful of septuagenarians and octogenarians were all it took to find him? Boy, the rest of universe must be feeling stupid now. UNIT and Torchwood might want to take note.

Now the news of the Doctor sighting had the bus nearly speeding down the streets with its occupants twittering excitedly about the Doctor. From the sound of it, none of them knew the Doctor was an alien from outer space, but they trusted Wilf’s words and believed him when he said, quite gravely, the Doctor was important. Rose was surprised by their efforts and warmed by their complete belief in Wilf and the Doctor.

For Rose, there was yet another factor to deal with—she hadn’t seen the Doctor in over a year, not since he left her (presumably forever) on that beach with John. Rose had given up all hope of ever seeing him again. In place of that hope grew bitter resentment which remained merely a seedling thanks to the great warmth and love John filled in her. And now to be ripped away from John and thrown back here—Rose didn’t know how to feel—sad, happy, excited, angry? Factions of her fought for control, but they all radiated with hurt, and all she wanted now was to crawl back into bed with John, arguing about whether or not the cake should be banana-flavored. Some deep part of her was alarmed by her dismissal of the Doctor—the Doctor who used to be her world, who moved the suns and moons in her universe—now the thought of seeing him made her sick to her stomach.

The bus stopped at the industrial part of town, and everyone shuffled off happily in search of the Doctor. Rose did not move, and Wilf, noticing his blonde friend’s almost dazed expression, lingered behind.

“What’s wrong Rose?” he asked, frowning, “Come on. You want to see the Doctor don’t you?”

“Do you think you’ve actually found him?” she asked, “Governments have tried to find him…and…”

Wilf shrugged sheepishly. “Hoping to be lucky I guess,” he said with a goofy grin, “Got to talk to him, don’t we? ‘Bout what’s to come. ‘Bout the dreams.”

“You never told me what they were,” said Rose.

Wilf seemed to wilt somewhat. He released a heavy sigh and said, “Bad dreams, Rose. Horrible. A man laughing. A woman. And the Doctor. I don’t know what’s comin’, but it ain’t good, and we need him.”

Rose nodded. “Yeah, we always do.” She stood and grinned at Wilf. “Then let’s go get him. Go on ahead, I’ll follow.”

* * *

The Doctor would agree with Rose when she would later describe that day as the most bizarre day that she had ever experienced, mostly due to the geriatric horde that descended upon him while he was chasing the Master. Wilf was at the head of this group.

“Did we do it?” an old man asked Wilf eagerly, “Is it him?”

“Tall, thin and big brown coat,” said a second man.

The Doctor’s eyes were wild and befuddled by this sudden onslaught of very old humans. He glared at Wilfred and whispered to him, furiously, “Wilfred? Have you told them who I am? You promised!”

“No no, just said you were a doctor, that’s all,” Wilf replied, “And might I say sir, it is an honor to see you again!” The old man saluted the Doctor, which the alien returned with a wry smile.

But it was a new voice that startled him, replacing the buzzing irritation he was feeling with a sudden chill. He might have paled a bit, like he had just seen a ghost—except the Doctor would never be afraid of ghosts, but he was terrified of that voice—and what that voice meant to his two bruised hearts.

“Blimey, it really worked. The Silver Cloak really worked. They really found you.” Rose Tyler stood only a little way from the group, her expression a mixture of impressed and surprised. The Doctor forgot to breathe for a beat or two, which was thankfully exactly what his respiratory bypass was useful for.

“We found you,” Minnie twittered happily, “’Cause Wilf phoned Netty , who phoned June, and her sister…”

The rest of Minnie’s words were lost in the deluge of emotions now possessing the Doctor. He could only stare at Rose in amazement, in fear, in thrall, as she looked back at him with uncertainty and hesitance.

_This is impossible._

The Doctor was knocked out of his trance when Minnie smacked his bum with a little giggle.

“Oh you are a looker,” the old woman said coyly. The Doctor frowned, irritated, as Minnie went on, “I’m Minnie the Menace. It’s been a long time since I had a photo with a handsome man. Come on, dear, let’s have a photograph.”

Before he could babble a protest, the others started to aggregate around him for the spontaneous photo op. He was too much in a daze himself to protest, and Wilf, trying in vain to stop the whole affair, was merely pushed to the side by the overzealous members of the Silver Cloak.

The Doctor glanced at Rose, perhaps as a plea for a bit of help, only to find her biting down an amused grin. The grimness of her previous countenance seemed to lift at the sight of him being molested by the old ladies, and the Doctor felt himself suddenly less annoyed.

* * *

When the Doctor managed to disentangle himself from his gaggle of admirers, Rose had disappeared. He was overcome with a sudden melancholy as he considered her previous appearance a figment of his imagination, which was not an uncommon occurrence for him—that is until Minnie piped up, “Well, where has Rose gone off to, then? Wilf, didn’t you say she was a very good friend of this Doctor here?”

“You saw her too?” the Doctor asked, perking up like a meerkat, “Blonde girl? You saw her?”

“’Course we did, silly,” Minnie answered, “She came with Wilf.”

“She’s headed back to the bus,” Wilf said, shrugging at the Doctor, “Said you enjoy your photo op, Doctor.”

The Doctor could have rolled his eyes, but he merely grinned, a terrifying happiness possessing him now. It was impossible that Rose could be back, especially when the Ood were mysteriously going on about the End of Time. But impossibility lost all its meaning these days. It seems nothing and everything was impossible.

He hurried ahead of his welcoming party to the bus, following Wilf’s rather spotty directions, his coat flying behind him like a great cape. His mind stumbled over dozen of questions. _Rose Tyler, how? How? How have you done this, you brilliant beautiful woman? What’s happened to_ him _? Rose Tyler, why?_

He slowed down when the bus came into view. A young blonde woman was leaning against it, her hands in the pockets of her cropped black leather jacket, digging at the gravelly ground with her heels. She looked up as he skidded to a stop a few feet from her.

Their gazes met, electrifying the both of them with a gamut of emotions that buzzed under their painfully controlled exteriors. The Doctor’s double heartbeat drummed against his chest with an anxious tempo while Rose Tyler’s wide eyes betrayed her emotions.

He wanted to rush up and embrace her, to touch her, to confirm her realness. But there was something in her expression that conjured an invisible wall between them which forced him to come to a sudden halt, filling the space between them with painful tension.

_Rose Tyler I love you._

He chocked. He could never say it. There was something about his Time Lord tongue that refused to let those words escape his mouth.

“Doctor,” she greeted, straightening up.

“Rose,” the Doctor returned, breathlessly, “Rose Tyler…”

He took a careful e step towards her, just a slight movement in her direction. At first she looked terrified. If there hadn’t been a bus behind her, the Doctor didn’t doubt she would have jumped back, away from him. So the Doctor stopped, hurt and confused by her reaction.  

-

Rose was trying hard to be angry and not be his Rose Tyler, because he had left her on that beach. After everything, he let her go so easily.

 She wasn’t Rose Tyler of the Doctor and Rose in the Tardis anymore. She was Rose Tyler of Rose and John of the strange adventures and odd contraptions made in Lab 040 of Torchwood. She was Rose Tyler of the Tyler Estate and big sister Rose Tyler and newly engaged Rose Tyler, no longer Dame Rose Tyler of the Powell Estate.

Rose tried to force it all down; she couldn’t let those old wounds open up again. She tried to be indifferent, to be cold, to be angry, and for a moment she thought she succeeded.

He said her name again, so similar yet different from the way John said her name, but exactly like she had remembered and her confines broke. The emotions that overwhelmed her was painful, yearning; her chest ached with unmourned loss and unsaid feelings. That horrible Crack flashed into her mind and she could hear John screaming her name as she was dragged into a white nothingness…or was that the Doctor?

_Oh Doctor._

Rose quickly brought her hands up to her mouth to muffle an escaped sob that called out for him. “ _Doctor_ …”

-

The Doctor rushed forward and embraced her. It was as if some incredible burden was lifted from his shoulders the moment he had her in his arms, her face buried in his chest. She was sobbing but tried to stifle herself in his chest.

“I’m here,” he murmured into her hair, “ _I’m sorry. I’m so sorry_.” _For everything_ , he meant. _For deciding to leave you on that beach. For all of this. For me._

And Rose understood.

 


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I really really appreciate it! :) I'm on tumblr too if you guys want to talk: abstractedcharm.tumblr.com!   
> Come find me!
> 
> (Sorry I had to take a time out! But I think I will be at least be making biweekly updates from now on! Have a lot more computer time and inspiration!)

**Two**

* * *

 

“Oh my,” Minnie’s amused voice interrupted their grim silence, “Why this is a scene worthy of any soap!”

Rose quickly broke the hug, much to the Doctor’s disappointment.

“Go ahead,” Minnie urged them, “Pretend we’re not here.”

“Let’s—let’s not do that,” the Doctor mumbled grumpily.

“So uh…Doctor…”Wilf said, “Let’s grab some coffee, eh? Or tea, maybe? You too, Rose. Looks like you might need a pick me up.”

Rose quickly tried to remove all sign of tears, which was unsuccessful because she was sure her eyes were red and her nose blotchy and gross. “Tea sounds fantastic,” she agreed with a soft smile. “Doctor?”

The Doctor, however, was not in the mood for any kind of refreshments, not with Rose standing and breathing just an arm’s length from him. There were so many questions to ask, so many words to be said. He began to protest, but Rose cut him off, “Doctor, Wilf’s got something to tell us…well you. I think…we can deal with that first, yeah?”

The Doctor swallowed down his restlessness and irritation, glancing between Wilf and Rose, before conceding with a short nod. “Alright, let’s go.”

During the bumpy ride back to downtown London, the Doctor could not keep his eyes off of Rose. His expression ran the gamut from completely mesmerized to completely flabbergasted.

“How?” was the first question the Doctor was able to voice.

“I don’t know,” she answered, shrugging, “Doctor, I don’t even remember much. I just…woke up in Wilf’s living room.”

The Doctor looked to Wilf for clarification.

“Found her passed out right on the steps,” said Wilf, “Gave us quite a scare, but I recognized you alright! Don’t forget a face that saved my life and my daughter’s.”

Wilf grinned at Rose gratefully and she returned the smile.

“But it’s impossible,” mumbled the Doctor, “You can’t be here.”

There was a flash of irritation on Rose’s face. “Well, I am…so…I think we can skip the usual sequence of uh… _impossibles_.  I’m here and…well, doesn’t that mean the walls are cracking again? Realities collapsing? Like last time?”

He nodded. Too calmly for Rose’s nerves.

“Then that’s bad isn’t it?” she continued, “Something’s happened. But that’s not all, something pulled me here. This is more than just the walls breaking. Something wanted me here, and if it isn’t you, who would do this?”

The Doctor wanted to say that he always wanted her here but the words caught on his lips. He had no right.

 Instead, he released a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry, Rose, I don’t know. Do you remember anything else? A sound? A color even?”

Rose’s mind jumped to that ugly Crack in the White. “Yes, there was…this crack in the wall. And then just there, in white.”

“A crack…” The Doctor heard that before, somewhere, a mention of a crack. He wracked his head for just an echo of the word, but came up with silence. “Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry.”

“But we’re going to find out, yeah?” Her voice held a hint of panic and desperation.  “And get me back home?”

_Home_ , the Doctor mused sadly. _Her home was there now._ He felt a bitter resentment rise in the pit of his stomach, a sting of anger spreading from his abdomen like poison.

But he knew he had no right to be angry. This was exactly what he wanted, wasn’t it? For Rose to be happy there, not here. Where he could imagine a reflection of himself and her living the adventure he would never have.  

* * *

 

They exited the bus with Wilf when they arrived at the cafe Wilf had chosen.

“What’s so special about this place?” the Doctor asked the old man, “We passed 15 cafes on the way.”

Wilf didn’t answer, and instead beckoned both the Doctor and Rose to follow him. Rose and the Doctor gave each other puzzled glances before entering the café after Wilf.

Wilf chose a table near the windows, subtly manipulating the seating so that the Doctor and Rose to sat together where they had a full view of the street outside. He sat himself on one side so he too was facing towards the window. Then he busied himself ordering tea and biscuits for everyone, nervously mumbling something about how scrumptious their lemon crème biscuits were. They arrived shortly, but none of them seem to be particularly in the mood for tea and biscuits.

The Doctor stared hard at him and said, “You are impossible.”

Rose looked at him pointedly. She was really beginning to despise the word.

“What do you mean?” Wilf asked.

“You,” the Doctor said, his brows furrowed, “Who are you?”

“I’m Wilfred Mott,” Wilf answered simply.

“No, people have waited hundreds of years to find me and then you manage it in a few hours. And you found Rose—even I couldn’t…” He trailed off, glanced at Rose, who was regarding Wilf with a soft sympathetic expression.

“Well, I’m just lucky I s’pose,” Wilf said with a shrug.

“No…no,” the Doctor shook his head, “We keep on meeting. Over and over again. There’s something connecting us.”

“Yeah,” mumbled Wilf, “But what’s so important about me?”

“Exactly,” the Doctor said, “What’s so special about you?”

“Doctor,” Rose warned, giving him a stern look. Doctor’s attention snapped to her and instinctively responded with an almost playful, “Oh, was that rude?” She gave him a slanted, half exasperated smile instead, her expression playfully reproachful. For a brief moment, the Doctor felt the rush of warm familiarity, of the time past when she greeted his every look with a brilliant smile. It was all painfully evanescent as her smiled flitted away.

Rose turned to Wilf and said, “Tell him what you told me.”

Wilf fidgeted nervously, and was about to speak when something outside caught his attention. The Doctor and Rose followed his gaze.

“Oh…” the Doctor breathed at the sight of Donna Noble, who was loading big boxes into her car.

“Donna,” Rose said.

“I’m sorry,” Wilf apologized, “I had to. Look, can’t you make her better?”

The Doctor’s face stiffened, but his eyes were angry. “Stop it,” he muttered sharply.

“But you're so clever, Doctor,” said Wilf, his old eyes pleading, “Can't you bring her memory back? Look, just go to her now, go on. Just run across the street. Go up and say hello.”

“If she remembers. If she ever remembers me, her mind will burn and she will die!”

“But Rose said that there’s a way to help her!” Wilf persisted imploringly.

“What?” The Doctor looked at Rose, looking agitated, “You said that? Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true. There might be a way to help Donna!” Rose answered sharply.

He shook his head. “No, I can’t…don’t you think I would have done so if I could?”

“But you haven’t tried looking, have you?” Rose shot back, anger rising with each word, “You have all the Universe at your disposal, and you don’t think you might find something to help her?”

The sound of Donna’s voice interrupted them; the Doctor and Rose abruptly halted their argument and looked up at her. The redhead was angrily telling off the meter attendant with her usual vivacious charm: “Don’t you touch this car!”

 Wilf, Rose and the Doctor laughed, lifting any tension mounting between them.

 “She’s not changed,” said Doctor, fondly.

“Oh look,” said Wilf, drawing their attention to a young man who just joined Donna, “Shawn Temple. They’re engaged. Getting married in the spring.”

“That’s lovely,” Rose murmured, her voice wistful and almost sad, something the Doctor did not miss. He briefly glanced at her, then back at Donna.

“Another wedding,” he said, smiling, “Hold on, she’s not going to be called Noble-Temple, is she?”

“Sounds like a tourist spot,” Rose added in agreement, taking the words right out of his mouth.

“No, it’s Temple-Noble,” Wilf assured them.

“Is she happy? Is he nice?” the Doctor asked.

“Yeah, he's sweet enough. He's a bit of a dreamer. Mind you, he's on minimum wage, she's earning tuppence, so all they can afford is a tiny little flat. And then sometimes I see this look on her face. Like she's so sad, but she can't remember why. Like something’s missing—said that to me once.”

“She’s got him,” said the Doctor.

“She’s making do,” said Wilf.

“Aren’t we all?” the Doctor muttered.

 “What about you Doctor?” Wilf asked, “Who’ve you got now?”

The Doctor’s eyes traveled to Rose and their eyes met. Rose looked at him as expectantly as Wilf did.

 “No one now,” the Doctor answered, still looking at her, “Travelling alone. Thought it’d be better, alone. But I…I did some things that went wrong. I did…” His voice broke a little, and he released a loud sigh.

She was frowning at him. Pitifully. Sadly. If she only knew what he had almost done—what he had almost become— the Doctor wondered if she would hate him for it.

The Doctor looked away and cleared his throat. “None of that matters. Happy Christmas though.”

“Merry Christmas,” Rose added, “Although it was Easter for me just yesterday.”

“Was it now?” Wilf said, amused, “Lucky you then, getting a second Christmas.”

Rose’s mouth twitched into a semblance of a smile, “Yeah, lucky.”

Wilf missed the humorless way she agreed with him. He turned to the Doctor and added, “You too. Look at you. You know you need her Doctor. Donna, I mean. Look, wouldn’t she make you laugh again? Good old Donna?”

The Doctor’s face became even darker, and he made no reply, but Rose answered for him, “Yeah, she definitely would.”

Wilf looked encouraged by Rose’s support.

“So can you?” he asked, “Find something to help Donna remember?”

The Doctor was at a loss for what to say. He had given up all hope in getting his friend back; it was too risky for her.

No— that was a lie. It was too risky for _him_ —he was afraid. He had searched long and hard to find a way to get Rose back and had only succeeded in finding a crack to say goodbye. A sun burned up just for those words he failed to say. And then there was that icy Norwegian Beach and the cursed blue suit. 

He didn’t know if he could handle the devastation of failing to help Donna. It was safer, he subconsciously decided, to not even try.

 But the expression on Rose’s face seared shame into his cowardly hearts. She seemed determined to keep him from slipping away from this, and so he cautiously allowed himself to wonder—Donna Donna, how could he help Donna? Could he have? Did he try hard enough?

 It occurred to him then, with some thrill, that if anyone could succeed in helping Donna, it was Rose—Rose who found her way back to him when _he_ had failed.

Maybe it was Rose who would save Donna.

Finally, the Doctor replied, “Maybe…maybe there is, Wilf.”

The joy illuminated the old man’s face made Rose’s face light up.  The Doctor felt his hearts quicken at the sight of the smile he had longed to see—it only saddened him that he was not the one who had elicited it.

* * *

 

They stepped out of the café. Rose waited until Wilf was out of earshot before she spoke to the Doctor. Her tone was hard and sharp, “Donna knew, didn’t she?”

The Doctor was momentarily dumbfounded by the question. His brows came together in question.

“Knew about what?” he asked, “About her mind overloading?”

Rose nodded.

The Doctor hesitated. Rose could see his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. “Yes,” he mumbled.

Rose looked disappointed. “And she wanted her mind erased? She wanted this?”

The Doctor suddenly looked weary. He ran one hand over his face and turned away from Rose with slumped shoulders. He walked, expecting Rose to follow, towards the direction of the Tardis. Rose was forced to quicken her pace to match his.

“Doctor?” Rose said, more urgently this time, “Did she want this? Was this her choice?”

“Rose,” he started, his voice faltering, “I…she was dying…”

“Was. It. Her. Choice?” Rose repeated, stressing every syllable with a severity that the Doctor had never heard from her before. He felt himself somewhat stunned by the authority and anger.

“I had no other choice,” he answered quietly.

“But it was never your choice to make,” said Rose sternly.

“Was I supposed to let her die?!” he snapped at her, half-yelling, “Was I supposed to allow her mind to melt? Rose, tell me that? Would you rather she was alive and getting married with no memory…or dead in the ground?”

Rose stood her ground against his anger. “No, but you weren’t supposed to abandon her to her fate either. Not you Doctor, you always find a way.”

“I couldn’t,” he replied curtly.

“Yes you could have.”

“How do you know that?” The Doctor shot back angrily, “You can’t know that, Rose. I would have _failed,_ and I _couldn’t_ fail.” He turned away from her. “Not again.”

Rose was taken aback by the almost imperceptible quiver of fear in the Doctor’s tone. There was a quality of desperation in his words that tempered her anger. Her expression softened, and she regarded the Doctor with a sympathetic frown. “I know…because…I did it. I found a way. I had to.”

The Doctor was at first bewildered by her confession; why in the world would Rose have _had_ to find a way to help Donna’s overload problem? Then it hit him, and his expression instantly changed to one of shame and regret. He released a long, weary sigh. “Oh Rose,” he murmured, wearily, “I’m so sorry. He...I didn’t think it would have affected him.”

“He didn’t think so either,” she added, with a plaintive shrug, “But it did.”

“I was wrong,” the Doctor said, heavy with remorse, “I left you with him because I thought he’d be unaffected. You could have been…if he had died, Rose you would have been all alone.” The pit of his stomach churned angrily at what could have been; the possibility that he could have left Rose to heartbreak and loneliness made him physically sick. 

“But he’s alive,” Rose told him with a small smile, “Oh, he’s very much alive. ‘Cause I never gave up, Doctor, I found a way.”

“How?”

“The coral that you gave us, remember? The one from the Tardis?”

The Doctor nodded, his expression still puzzled. Then he suddenly perked up when it hit him— _the Tardis Coral_! Rose didn’t have to say anymore.

“Of course!” he exclaimed suddenly, getting that look of manic understanding that Rose was so used to, “Rose Tyler, you are brilliant, you are! The coral! Why didn’t I think of that?” He stopped and looked at Rose quizzically, “How did you come up with something so brilliant—not that you aren’t brilliant mind you, just…?”

Rose shrugged. “We just tried everything.”

He grinned widely. Of course, he expected nothing less from Rose Tyler.

* * *

 

Rose stared at the Tardis Console as the Doctor unlocked her. It was larger than she remembered; she couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the immense reality and blueness of it being just a few feet from her.

“Come on in,” the Doctor invited her, almost gleefully.

Rose obeyed, stepping over the threshold with a mixture of apprehension and eagerness. She thought she could hear a pleasant hum from the ship, almost like a murmur of welcome.

_Welcome Home._

 But _Home_ was a universe away, probably frantically trying to find her. She hoped she made it back before her Doctor dismantled all of Torchwood trying to figure out what happened to her.

The Console Room looked exactly like she had remembered, save for the absence of her things that she usually had scattered around the area. Instead, they had been replaced by odd little gadgets and curious little alien contraptions that looked like they were being subjected to the Doctor’s invasive curiosity.

It was surreal. All of it, standing in the Tardis Console Room again with the Doctor circling the console, pulling this button and that, flipping switches and smashing something with a mallet.

She wanted to cry and laugh and squeal with delight. After all, returning to this Tardis had been her goal for the better part of the last five years of her life. An obsession that kept her up at night and inspired her to jump universes. Even if she had come to terms with her residency in Pete’s World, being back here…it shook her more than she had expected it to.

“Rose?” asked the Doctor, “You ok?”

Rose let out a breath. “Oh yeah, just…been awhile. Needed a bit of time. Adjusting.” She approached the console, running her hands over the cool railings and the peculiar controls that seemed much less foreign to her now than ever. Rose supposed having to hack the Tardis in an alternate universe had its benefits.

“Tea?” the Doctor offered.

“And we didn’t just come back from a café?” Rose asked with a quirked brow.

“Oh you know _I_ make the best tea, Rose, perfected the technique even,” he said, grinning, “Furthermore, I have the Huxberry Rose-Orange Pekoe Tea from Felippa 7 that you love. Remember?”

Rose’s eyes lit up. “Well if you put it like that, I might have to. We can discuss this whole possible world ending situation over a nice cuppa then, yeah?”

The Doctor grinned. “How British of you.”

“Says the man with a collection of tea numbering over what, like 10,000?”

“21,410 now. And counting.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing all this time? Collecting tea?”

“It’s important, Rose Tyler! What kind of kitchen would I be keeping without the essential collection?”

Rose said no more. Grinning, she went down the corridor towards the kitchen but stopped when everything looked unfamiliar.

“You remodeled again huh?” she muttered to the Tardis affectionately, “Hopefully my room’s still in here somewhere.”

* * *

 

“The Master?”

“Yup, that Master.” The Doctor had just finished telling Rose about why he had raced back to Earth and what he had been doing just prior to being ambushed by Wilf’s lot, and perhaps the possible doom looming over the horizon over steaming cups of Huxberry Rose-Orange Pekoe Tea from Felippa 7. It made for a calming discussion.

“I thought he was killed. Shot by his wife?”

The Doctor glanced at her curiously. “How do you know about him?”

“I got the story from Jack and Martha,” Rose answered with a slight shrug, “You know, when we had that bit of time for a chat after we escaped total annihilation and towed the Earth back into proper orbit.”

“Ah, yes, that was…” It was the best time of his life, those few hours in the Tardis with everyone he loved, all of his amazing companions, saving the Earth together. What he wouldn’t give to have enjoyed that bubble of warmth for longer than a few hours.

“Anyways, you think he’s responsible for dragging me here?” Rose asked.

“Yes, well, no,” he answered, “The Ood warning about the End of Time said that he was involved somehow. Knowing him, it could be anything, but…last I saw him, he wasn’t even stable enough perform 4th dimensional calculus, much less pull off something as dangerous and delicate as…jumping universe to kidnap you.”

“So…who was it then?”

“I don’t know, Rose. The Ood—they told me something was returning. Something big that would bring about the End of Time, and it’s not the Master. Like I said, he’s not stable enough for it now.”

“What’s wrong with him, beside the fact that he’s a raging psychopath?”

“That’s putting it lightly. His resurrection…it went all wrong.”

“You mean his regeneration?”

“No no. He was dead. I burned his body.”

“Hold on, time lords can resurrect from scratch?” Rose asked incredulously.

“Well, it’s a tricky process. Dangerous, not to mention not exactly legal—not that there is a Gallifrey to persecute anyone anymore.” He sighed, wearily. “Anyways, I want to see if I can help him deal with his…madness.”

“You’re going to save him,” said Rose, “After all he’s done to you…” It wasn’t an accusation or judgment; instead Rose almost sounded relieved. She smiled at him softly, thankful he hadn’t changed so much since she last saw him.

“He’s the last of my kind, Rose,” he told her, quietly, “I need to save him, even if I have to lock him up.”

Rose nodded. “Okay,” she said, “We’ll do it. Together.”

The Doctor smiled—a wide infectious grin brimming with happiness he hadn’t felt in a while. Rose returned it just as enthusiastically.

“Now,” the Doctor said perkily, “You were saying about Donna?”

Suddenly a loud, wailing alarm interrupted their quiet tea time.

The Doctor perked up, eyes wide and alert. “That alarm!” he exclaimed. The Doctor nearly jumped out of his seat with the mug still in hand, his superior coordination abilities balancing his cup so that not a single drop of tea was lost. He took a large gulp of the scalding liquid, only wincing for the effort, put it down, and sped out of the kitchen to the console room.

“What for?” Rose asked, abandoning her tea as well to follow him, “What’s going on?”

“The Tardis located the Master,” the Doctor answered with a grave and manic determination to his movements, “I’ve got him this time.” He dramatically pulled a large lever, causing the Tardis to jerk violently once before it started its bumpy journey.

* * *

 

The Tardis landed near what looked like abandoned warehouses. The Doctor poked his head out and smelled the night air. He could sense the frightening electrifying energy in the atmosphere, crackling to his sensitive nose and skin. The Master was near.

“Stay here,” he muttered to Rose, though he knew it was a useless command when it came to Rose Tyler, especially Rose Tyler who commanded so much more than before.

Unsurprisingly, Rose protested, “No way.”

“Please, please don’t argue with me, Rose.”

 “Said we’ll do it together, didn’t we? You can’t bench me, Doctor, not now. I’m not the girl that you lost through the void anymore!”

The Doctor almost grimaced at this. No she wasn’t—and it broke his hearts that she had to change the way she did. Because of him.

“Rose,” Doctor began patiently, “That man out there, that Time Lord, is one of the most dangerous creatures you will meet. He hates me. He spent a year tormenting everyone and everything I cared about and made me watch—that’s how much he hates me. If he knew you were here now he’d—just, please just stay here. Please.”

Rose chewed her lips. He was pleading, seriously, no flirtation or mock exasperation. Her expression softened and she nodded. “Okay.” She’d give him this, just this once. “Because you asked nicely.”

The Doctor grinned and embraced her tightly. She wrapped her arms around his skinny middle, and they remained in the hug for several seconds.

“Oh Rose Tyler,” he muttered into her hair, “How I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too, Doctor.”

He slowly pulled away, reluctantly, from her warmth and her realness and the electrifying softness of her arms.  What he wouldn’t give to just cuddle up with her in the library with more tea and read her the prequel to Harry Potter Rowling would write in the future.                             

He left the Tardis and started his search. He could feel the maniacal energy of the other Time Lord sparkling in the atmosphere. Following it, he found the Master in an alleyway. The now blond Time Lord what shooting white bolts of lightning out of his palms. When he saw the Doctor he fired at him and missed. He tried again and again, finally hitting the Doctor square in the chest, causing him to fall to his knees.

* * *

 

After the Doctor had left the Tardis, Rose Tyler approached the console and looked over the controls. It hadn’t changed the last time she had operated it, and warm light of the time energy put her at ease. She pressed a few buttons and pulled the screen and the keyboard closer. The UNIT satellite mainframe access screen came up, a little type tool blinking and asking for the access code. She punched in the access code she had used when she was dimension hopping with the hopes it was still valid. To her luck, it let her through.

“Someone needs to beef up their security,” Rose muttered, amused, “How disappointing. Someone’s getting yelled at. Sorry IT guys.”

She took control of one of the satellite cameras and searched for the Doctor and the Master. When the camera focused on the blurry images of the coordinates she punched in, Rose saw the Doctor fall to his knees as what looked like bolts of lightning hit him in the chest.

“Doctor!” she exclaimed in panic. She grabbed her jacket and sped out of the Tardis.

* * *

 

The Master of rambling and raving incoherently, fragmented words spilling angrily from mouth. His hunger stung with every voracious word.

“Hot, fat , blood, food. Pots, plates of meat….”

“Stop it!” the Doctor shouted.

“SLICED SLICED SLICED.”

“STOP IT!”

“Doctor?”

Both Time Lords attention snapped to Rose Tyler who stood only a few feet away, looking bewildered.

The Master lunged towards her, yelling “It’s mine it’s mine!”

“Rose, get out of here!” Doctor yelled.

But the Master stopped just in front of Rose, leering at her with hungry eyes, “Rose Tyler!” He cackled. Then suddenly let out a loud, long wolf howl, sending shivers down Rose’s back. “I meet the indomitable Rose Tyler at last! Can you hear it?” He turned back to the Doctor. “Can you hear it? The howl? Hungry like the wooolf! It’s hungry like me, but it’s MINE. Mine to eat and eat and eat!”

“Doctor…” Rose muttered, slowly stepping away from the Master.

“Stop it,” the Doctor pleaded to the Master, “What if I ask you for help? There’s more at work tonight than you and me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’ve been told something is returning.”

The Master grinned. “And here I am.”

“No, something more.”

“Her?”

Rose shook her head. “Not me either.”

But the Master was now clutching his head, muttering “But it hurts.”

“I was told it was the end of time.”

“It hurts,” the Master said urgently, “Doctor, the noise. The noise in my head, Doctor. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. Stronger than ever before. Can't you hear it?”

The Doctor frowned, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Listen, listen, listen, listen. Every minute, every second, every beat of my hearts, there it is, calling to me. Please listen.”

The Doctor glanced at Rose, and then faced the Master again. “I can’t hear it.”

“ _Listen_.”

The Master grabbed the Doctor and brought his temple to the Doctor’s, initiating a mind meld with his enemy. The Doctor was caught off guard; he reeled from the force of all those years of hate and anger and insanity—and he could hear it, the incessant beats of a drum, grouped in four. He pulled away quickly, eyes wide, stumbling in the effort to regain his equilibrium in the real world. He felt Rose’s hands steadying him, but all he could think about was the beat pounding away in the Master’s head.

“I heard it,” the Doctor said, incredulously, gaping at the now triumphant Master, “But there’s no noise. There never has been. It’s just your insanity. What it is? What’s inside your head?”

“It’s real!” the Master shouted euphorically, “It’s real! It’s real!”

The Master suddenly flew off like some bloody rocket and the Doctor took off after him with Rose following closely behind.

* * *

 

“Where are we going now Doctor? Who took the Master?”

Rose and the Doctor had rushed back to the Tardis in panic. The Master had been just forcefully carried away by some black-clad secret ops type who shot rounds of ammunitions at Rose and the Doctor to keep them from helping the Master.

“I don’t know…” the Doctor muttered as he sped around the console flipping switches and pressing buttons. The Tardis began to shake as it started its trip, “But there is someone I need to see.”

“Who?”

“Wilf.”

“Why?”

“Something about him. I can’t put a finger on it, but for some reason he’s in the middle of it.”

“What about Donna?”

The Doctor stopped and faced Rose. “Right, Donna. Rose, tell me, how were you able to save your…your Doctor.” He had a bit of difficulty saying those last two words. Jealousy was not a good feeling.

“Now?”

“Yes now.”

“Well, we were growing a tardis with the coral like Donna had suggested. I noticed whenever he tried working around the growing Tardis coral he felt better. Had less headaches and was able to not collapse every half hour.” Rose grimaced at the memory. “So I thought…somehow it could help him. I got some people together and we figured out that a growing Tardis coral could act like an external hard drive when connected to his nervous system. Like extra storage space for his brain. So we tried it. We had to embed the piece in the nape of the neck…um…right at the um…I think the first spinal bone thing—”

“The first cervical vertebra, also called the atlas. You must have attached it to the C1 nerve root.”

“Yeah!” Rose agreed, “The neurosurgeon mentioned that…or something like that…”

“Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?!  The Coral organic matter is used because it can naturally hold dimensional displacement technology. You know, bigger on the inside tech. It’s highly developed enough to relieve the electrical overload of Time Lord size knowledge within human brain capacity.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. That’s what she said.”

“Who?”

“The Neurosurgeon who came up with the treatment.”

The Doctor grinned appreciatively, “Well isn’t she brilliant, then?”

“Lifesaver,” Rose muttered in agreement.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place,” the Doctor said, looking suddenly grim, “Not to him.”

“Well it did, Doctor,” said Rose, “And we got through it. Can you do the same for Donna?”

The Doctor grinned. “I can do even better. No fussy surgery or neurosurgeon involved.”

“Really?”

“Really. Think about Rose, Time Lords have the technology to rewire an entire brain and rewrite DNA. Like you said, I have the whole universe at my disposal and installing coral pieces into the spinal cord is well—child’s play!”

“Let’s get to it, then. Let’s go get Donna back.”

* * *

 

Wilf was saluting the Queen on the telly when he saw the face again, that elderly woman who warned him about the things to come.

“You are the heart of this,” she said gravely, “And this is the beginning, the middle and the end. A storm in the fabric of time and space is brewing. Only you can see it.”

Distressed, Wilf asked, “Why? What have I done?”

“You are an old soldier, sir. Only you were too late. The war was won and passed by.”

“I did my duty.”

“You never killed a man.”

He frowned. “No, I did not, no, but don’t say that like it’s shameful!”

“The time will come you must take arms. The drums beat four times. Silence will be brought down. The fledgling has flown through the crack. But the doctor, he will survive and see it all with the same eyes with the bad wolf by his side. But you, Wilf, must remember, he must not know until the very end if he is to survive.”

The Queen’s speech suddenly returned to the screen. He could hear Donna, Shaun and his doctor laughing at something. Wilf got out quickly, discreetly, and went into his bedroom. He pulled an old suitcase from under the bed and pulled out, wrapped in a piece of cloth, his old service revolver.

He heard a light tap at his window. When he looked out, he saw the Doctor returning to his Tardis, glancing back at him meaningfully. Rose was standing by the Tardis doorway. Excited, thinking perhaps they had a way to help Donna, he nearly ran down the stairs with his old aching bones.

*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review or something! I love getting feedback!

**Author's Note:**

> Please take some time to leave a comment or review! I would really appreciate it to get feedback on my work! Please stay tuned for the next chapter!


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